Revelations

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  Despite having spent months thinking of the role she wanted Fitzwilliam to have in her life, having seen his estate, having gained quite a realistic insight in his character, finally deciding she did love him and wanted to share the rest of her life with him, she really didn't have a clue how he pictured her as his wife. Would he expect her to spend her days dressed up as a pretty

  ornament for his drawing-room? Would she have to visit poor families on his estate? Would he be out hunting all day, leaving her behind with his sister and a piece of needlework? What would her life be like?

  Even Elizabeth's strong, positive character had some difficulty with so much insecurity, and she suddenly remembered Charlotte's opinion, that one might as well get married to a complete stranger, since happiness in marriage was entirely a matter of chance. That was not a comfortable thought at all and she opposed it by thinking of last night, hadn't she seen a totally different Mr Darcy then, an almost worshipful man who let her explore his body at her leisure, not taking control at all? And wasn't he madly in love with her, just look at the adoring expression with which he watched her even now. He didn't want to rule her, or he wouldn't have insisted on her not promising to obey him.

  Darcy had been watching Elizabeth for some time, feasting his eyes on his beloved, and much of her emotional state could be read from her face. She was not as deliriously happy as he was, she seemed close to tears even, until she forcibly repressed that, but her thoughts were clearly not very cheerful.

  Whatever could be the matter? She was exchanging insecurity for wealth, a tiny room in a country house for an entire estate, and her noisy family for a doting husband.

  His wealth. His estate. And she loved her family.

  A deep, sedate voice broke the silence and said gently, 'You miss them already, don't you? Your family, your little room, your favourite walks?'

  And sure enough, her expressive face showed her anxiety clearly now, and he gathered her to himself, set her light shape on his lap, rested her head against his chest.

  'Better let it out love, you'll feel much better after a good cry. There you go, I'm here with you, I love you so much, if you're sad I want you to share it with me.'

  His dearest Elizabeth felt free to cry a little, not too much, she was very strong and independent after all, but she held him tightly and spilled a few tears.

  'I'm sorry I didn't realise earlier that you were leaving everything behind. To me it's as comfortable as always, only with my fondest wish fulfilled, I'm in heaven with you by my side. But to you everything must be strange and a little intimidating as well, a whole new life.'

  That was not all, he could see there was more, but she dared not even mention it. How could that be? Elizabeth was never been daunted by anyone, not even his rather formidable aunt Catherine, how could she be afraid of someone now? Especially since that someone seemed to be him!

  'Please tell me, Elizabeth, it hurts to see you afraid of anything, this is me, your adoring slave.'

  He laid his head in her bosom to prove he was hers to command, and clearly, humour was the way to her heart, for she stroked his hair and confessed, carefully choosing her words.

  'I never realised how dependent I was going to be on you, Fitzwilliam. We talked so much, and shared so much, but that was all in my father's house.

  Now I'm entirely at your mercy, I'll live in your house, the fortune is yours, everything is yours. Will there be anything for me? Some duty I can perform, something to make me myself? Or will I forever be an extension of you? What will my role be in your life? A beautifully dressed addition to your household, gathering more information and accomplishments until I can start carrying and raising your heirs?'

  That wasn't it at all! Any gently bred maiden could do that, that was not why he fell hopelessly in love with Elizabeth! But how to tell her what she meant to him, how to put into words what he hoped their life together would be like?

  'Can I take some time to formulate my hopes and wishes for us? You're clearly upset, I don't want to make it worse by saying things that aren't perfectly phrased and impossible to explain in more ways than the one I mean. Will you spoil me a little while I think? I'm getting a bit upset myself, I thought we had a perfect understanding, but I so comprehend your fears.'

  As Elizabeth clung to his neck and stroked his hair and his clean-shaven jaws, giving him little kisses on his bare skin wherever she could reach it, Darcy tried to gather his thoughts whilst being constantly distracted by some shiver of desire at her touch. Still he managed, and he made an effort to put them into words.

  'Please allow me some more time if you want me to become specific, but generally I thought we'd be together most of the time. I'd love to share my duties with you as much as possible, and if you want we can find some duties for you, too. Of course I'll want to hunt, and if we cannot find a way to do that together, I'll leave you alone sometimes. But you'll want to take solitary walks, won't you? Then you will leave me. I'm sure we'll find a way

  to make it work. And if we are to be blessed with children, I'm afraid I cannot take the burden of carrying and bearing them from you, but rest assured I will do my share in raising them. I love children, I've waited so long to find a woman whom I'd dare to have them with, I promise I will be the best father they could wish for, I'll spoil them rotten.'

  On impulse, he lifted Elizabeth from his lap and put her on the bench of the carriage, then kneeled at her feet, head in her lap, and begged her, 'And will you please, please talk to me when anything bothers you? If I fell in love with you for your frankness and yes, for your impertinence, how could I ever mind hearing what you feel or think? I've ached for you for so long, love, do you think I'd just forget about that now we're married, and turn into some kind of tyrant? I'm yours to command, forever.'

  As he looked up at Elizabeth he could see her relief, she had been worried, and this would not be the last time, she would be sad over her family again, and she would doubt him again; she was dependent on him for material things, but he was dependent on her for his happiness, and they would find the perfect way to live together.

  She bent over and kissed him with passion, did it excite her to have him at her feet? It certainly excited him to be here, it was quite a good place to be, he could feel a bare ankle where her dress had fallen away, could he just follow that leg upward and get under her dress? That would be very indecent, but who would see it? Then he realised he was not just sitting at her feet, he was actually right between her legs, a dress covered everything up neatly but of course she could feel him sitting there, remembering last night, and this morning. Laying his hand on her ankle and slowly moving it upward, he watched her face to see what she thought of him taking liberties.

  Elizabeth could feel Fitzwilliam's mood turn from kind concern to anticipation. He stroked her bare ankle and didn't stop there, just as she hoped. Pretty soon his hand disappeared under her dress, finding its way through her petticoats by following one of her legs, stroking her inner thighs. Since she was not ticklish at all his touch was very exciting instead, and she wished she had him within reach, to do her own share of the fondling. She could imagine how exciting it must be for Fitzwilliam to know exactly what was waiting for him within the masses of linen keeping her warm and covered under her sleek muslin dress, and of course that very thought made her blush vividly in anticipation. And indeed as soon as he

  had found his way through the petticoats she could feel her skirts being lifted, his warm breath marking his progress as he kissed first her calves, then her thighs.

  He was even more sure of himself than yesterday, and despite telling herself repeatedly that no-one would see them in the fast-moving carriage the blush did not leave her cheeks with the realisation of what was actually happening. Inevitably she forgot her shame in ardour, this was as good as it had been before, apparently one could do this all day long and not get bored.

  His ministrations caused her head to spin and she could barely keep herself from moaning. The feeling k
ept rising until she had that release again, and she knew what she wanted next, but it was not going to be easy on a carriage seat. Of course her beloved was in the throes of his own desires by now and he found a way, hitching up her dress a little bit, unbuttoning his trousers. First she saw his handsome face right before her, smiling cheekily at his own audacity, then she got a very heated kiss, and with only a little fumbling under her skirt she could feel herself filled up, ecstasy taking hold of her again. Through a haze of delight she could feel and see her husband totally lose himself in lust, he was really letting go, so good for him. Neither of them lasted very long, it was all so new to them, they were both so easily excited.

  Still giggly and feeling very naughty they put their clothes back to how they were supposed to be and sat together in a very tight embrace. They kissed a lot, Elizabeth was still pretty excited and that seemed to amuse Fitzwilliam to no end. She hadn't touched him at all and needed to catch up, so she shoved a hand up his shirt and fondled his stomach and his chest, playing with the little hairs, relishing the soft muscle under his arm. Her fears were forgotten for now, she was back to being very much in love, and very eager to touch and be touched. Physical contact was such a blessing, how had they done without before? How had Fitzwilliam done without for so many more years than herself? He must have been so lonely, with no-one to be really intimate with, not even to have a good talk.

  Remembering his expression just before he left the parsonage in Hunsford, Elizabeth could imagine how he must have felt that night, and many nights after. Elizabeth had Jane to talk to, but he had no-one that close to him.

  Feeling his beloved's grip tighten, he looked at her with a question in his eye, and she answered his unspoken question.

  'I am so amazed how good it feels just to touch someone with love. To just sit like this, holding a living, breathing human being close. How did you stand doing without intimacy for so many years? How miserable you must have been that night...you know.'

  He knew, and he observed, 'I was quite alone for years. My father encouraged me to seek comfort where he did after mother passed away, with some ladies in town. But I was too proud to take it, also, I don't think I felt the need as badly as others would have. I'm convinced I didn't really crave love until I started to yearn for you, and I didn't feel true loneliness until after you rejected me. But Elizabeth, beloved, I needed that rejection, I needed to really suffer the loneliness to learn to appreciate what love had to offer. My misery made me a better man, finally worthy of your esteem. I'm not sorry I suffered, it made me fully appreciate what I have. I love you so much, just sitting here with you makes me so intensely happy.'

  Elizabeth was almost ashamed of her doubts just now, he loved her so much, he would never neglect her or ignore her wishes. But she also allowed herself to be human, she would miss her father and Jane again, and she would feel her dependence again. They sat together, perfectly happy, until the carriage halted to give the horses their first rest.

  'I've picked this place because it is one of the prettiest villages I know. Will you join me in a ramble, not solitary but hopefully in the best company you can imagine?'

  'I will,' was her answer, 'am I decent?'

  Darcy brushed back her hair a little with his hand, and he straightened her skirts. Then he put his shirt back into his breeches, glad he had listened to Elizabeth and chosen hunting gear to travel in. Their little escapade just now would otherwise not have been possible.

  Elizabeth straightened his collar and his coat, then put on her own coat, and they got out of the carriage, where Darcy told Bob, the driver, to have a cup of coffee and a late lunch on his master's account while the horses ate their ration and his master and his new wife stretched their legs a bit.

  Then he led his beloved through the tiny village, the cottages well-kept, the gardens bare of flowers in this late autumn, the cattle inside, but still it looked very pretty, with the natural stone houses and walls, the painted shutters, and the cosy square with ages-old linden trees, now bare of leaves of course but still impressive. Soon they were back on the road for another few hours, and just before dark they halted in a larger village, where they

  would spend the night in an ancient inn, a low building of darkened oak, where the village people gathered in the taproom to exchange gossip and to hear the weather forecast for the next day from the local soothsayer, in exchange for a pint of course. They had a private room to dine in and since they arrived in a rather modest carriage and were dressed rather informally, they were treated like any other affluent customer, making Elizabeth a lot more comfortable than a grand inn with preferential treatment would have made her feel.

  Of course they retreated to their room soon after dinner, then decided to try to get a bath. The inn did have a bathhouse but it was communal, and therefore they were forced to bathe separately. Still they felt much refreshed after half an hour, and because they were not yet tired they decided to take a little walk through the village in the dark. But since the village streets weren't lighted and the streets were therefore pitch dark and unfamiliar, their walk turned out really short, and Elizabeth convinced Darcy to take a drink in the taproom, which he would never have done on his own or with his sister.

  There was a roaring fire and a lot of conversation going on, and their host was very friendly. Soon, someone started singing and the whole room joined in. It was very amusing, but after one glass of barely acceptable wine the heat and the long journey started to make themselves felt and they retreated to their bedroom.

  Again, they were amazed to find themselves totally on their own, with no-one to look at them disapprovingly as they undressed and start to touch even before they were through.

  This time they had just crawled under the cold blankets when Elizabeth decided it was her turn to try something. She remembered Fitzwilliam mentioning she could do something with her mouth with him as well, and she was ready to try. Her beloved smelled of soap instead of himself, he had been very thorough in the bathhouse, and he froze in anticipation when she moved towards his lower half and took firm hold of him there, with her her hand first. Then when his immediate reaction had died down a little, from shuddering excitement to quiet enjoyment, she let her mouth and tongue do their part.

  That caused him another rush of excitement, but Elizabeth wasn't scared of his losing control. Should it cause him to grab her and take her there was no

  problem at all, it wouldn't hurt her anymore after all, so she really put some effort in it. He started to move along a little, he seemed to have a real need to do that, and his sounds indicated an excitement rising fast. And surely enough, shortly afterwards he shuddered intensely, and something salty and hot tasting stuck to her tongue. It was not very nice, the taste was very intense, and Elizabeth quickly jumped out of the bed and rinsed her mouth at the washstand. Her reaction caused her beloved to ask, mildly worried, 'Is something wrong? That was fabulous, I hope it didn't hurt or anything?'

  'Something salty and kind of hot tasting came out, a really weird taste, not nice. I had to rinse my mouth, but it's still there. What is it?'

  'Oh, I'm very sorry, I didn't know it tasted awful. Actually, I didn't know anything there for a few minutes, I suppose that is why it's very sinful. Did you realise that stuff is what makes children?'

  He waited a few moments to let it sink in.

  'You've seen it before then?' Elizabeth asked, a bit stupidly, and still a bit bothered by the sticky taste in her mouth, salty, hot, weird. Not something to repeat.

  'Countless times, love, when a man has not been with a woman at twenty-eight years of age he gains a lot of experience with his own body. Those needs cannot be denied. I've spilled a lot of seed, that's very sinful too. I cannot stop it from coming, but I more or less know when it will happen, you will not have to endure the taste again.'

  'You mean to say that each time we make love, that ends up inside me? And that will make me get with child?'

  'Yes, that is more or less how it works. T
hough it cannot give a child each time, for my parents had just one child between Georgie and me, and we're twelve years apart. The poor baby didn't survive, my mother was much like my cousin Anne, not very strong. Which is why aunt Catherine's disappointed hope of my marrying Anne had nothing to do with you, I wouldn't have considered it even if Anne had more character than a glass of tepid milk. Marriage between cousins weakens the blood, there has been too much of that going on in our family.'

  The very idea of marrying his cousin was clearly offensive to him. Then his expression changed back to gentle concern.

  'Does the idea of getting with child bother you? It will happen, if I am indeed able to sire children, but if I spill my seed outside your body it may take a little longer.'

  'I suppose that is the worst sin of all?'